Micky Yule lost both legs in Afghanistan but says he has nothing to whinge
about as he is competing for Scotland

When para-powerlifter Micky Yule hoists almost three times his bodyweight from his neck to high above his bulging torso on Saturday night, Scotland will stand as one with him.

It takes only one look at this tattooed, muscular para-powerlifter with two prosthetic limbs to understand why the former explosives expert is already a national treasure, even before his first major event.

He looks forged from the steel of Scotland’s shipyards.

A staff sergeant in the Royal Engineers, the 35-year-old was serving in Afghanistan just over four years ago on a mission to clear improvised explosive devices. Until he stepped on one.

Yule lost both legs, the left one severed from the knee down, the right one torn apart. He cannot recall the pain. He just remembers knowing that in the next few minutes he would “live or die”. The shock slows the moment down, and he remembers every detail. “There was just so much adrenalin rushing through my body, I can’t recall it being excruciating, it was almost as if it was beyond pain,” he says.

Yule is a compelling man, another war survivor to find a new passion in Paralympic sport.

When he joined the British Army in 1996, he was a man seeking adventure. Brought up just south of Edinburgh, he was posted to England, served in Aldershot, jumped out of planes for a period, and then, after a tour in Germany, studied as a diver and spent four years in the navy, gaining qualifications in demolitions.

“When Afghanistan kicked off and everyone started getting injured because of the IEDs and all that, all the guys who had good qualifications in demolitions had to switch their trade to blowing stuff up to try and find out the things that were blowing us up,” he says.

He quickly found himself in Helmand, Afghanistan, leading a search patrol to find IEDs.

“We tried to clear the routes,” he says. “It was a really dangerous job and I’m not saying it was any more dangerous than any other job, because they’re all bad, but it was a particularly unpleasant job and we got a lot of bad results from it.

“A lot of guys got injured and a lot of guys died. And, unfortunately, I got injured. I stood on a pressure plate IED and got injured. I had a double amputation in my legs, so it changed my life instantly.

“I’d actually forgotten about the date, which was even weirder. I then got reminded by my mum phoning me and asking me how I was. It hits your family worse than it hits you. You just get on with it and work your a--- off. But I’m still my mum’s wee boy in her eyes, even though I’m 35.

“What I never appreciated when I was so-called able-bodied was just how hard it is to train and just how hard it is to get to the starting point for parasport. People who get into disability sport already have that hunger because life has been hard for them.

“When I was able-bodied and doing sport, everything was pretty easy. You take it for granted and you don’t understand how it can all change in a second. Now I’m constantly scanning the ground and making sure it’s OK for me to get around.”

The reconstruction of his body was painstaking. They were the tough times. “It was the rebuilding of the legs, and I also fractured my pelvis. My pelvis is still out of sync but I’ve got no time to get it redone at the minute, so I’m just living with it. I also need to sort out my hand. My hand took a real big hit, which is not the best for powerlifting. I nearly lost that thanks to a big bit of shrapnel,” he explains, showing the inside of his wrist and right hand, which is a mesh of scar tissue.

“I had about 20 operations in hospital and I’ve had 25 since leaving. They could be from getting the frag out your butt cheeks that are driving you mad when you sit down to having your pelvis realigned or having skin grafts.”

The support he has received has driven him.

“Scotland have got a real affinity with soldiers, so they backed me there, and when they found out I was doing so well at the Commonwealth Games they really supported me to qualify,” he says. “With potential comes pressure. But I’m not going to be under any more pressure than I was when trying to find bombs in Afghanistan.

“This is a pressure where I don’t want to let myself down, my coaches down or my family down. That pressure in Afghanistan was, don’t f--- up or else someone is going to die. That’s real pressure. If all goes wrong here, I’ll be training again tomorrow and have another competition in three months. If it all goes wrong over there, people are trying to carry me into Chinooks when I’ve got no legs.”

Despite the trauma of the past four years, he insists he is one of the lucky ones.

“One of my friends broke down because he got shot in the head and lost a bit of his frontal lobes,” he says “His whole personality changed and he fell out of love with his wife. He lost a bit of his emotion because of that. It was a nightmare. My wife said, ‘You may have lost your legs but you’re still Micky’.”

Yule is aiming for a medal as one step on the road to the Paralympics in Rio in two years and hopes to draw on the emotion of the event. “I always want to go out and lift a bit aggressive. But I can’t go out there and lift 190 kilograms just laughing around and pointing at the camera. I need to be firing off all my muscle groups and I need to be ready because I’m going to have 190kg sitting above my neck in a couple of seconds. When I compete, I’ll be about 65 kilos, so that’s getting on to three times my body weight. Three is the glory thing for our sport.”

His final words explain why men such as Micky Yule are so astonishing. “People always ask me who inspires me and it’s never really sportsmen. I know many 18 and 19-year-old lads who are triple amputees and they get up in the morning, put all their limbs on and they go out the door. Why am I going to whinge when I’m 35, married and have children, and I’m competing for my country?”